


The Greater Crime

by kj_feybarn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin has broken everyone's heart, Anakin's choices are NOT Obi-Wan's fault, And that means sometimes they hurt each other, Because grief, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Muteness, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, at least temporarily, everyone's a slightly unreliable narrator, post RotS, they're all grieving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_feybarn/pseuds/kj_feybarn
Summary: The accusations were hurled at him, fast and steady from all sides. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and accepted them.Accepted that when the scales were weighed, it was Obi-Wan who had committed the greater crime.He just wasn’t sure what the crime was—except that, when it came down to it, he had never been enough, had never done enough.He had no defense against the accusation, and so he stayed silent.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 91
Kudos: 1831
Collections: Clones Adore Obiwan, Favorites, Jedi-Friendly, Prequel, Suggested Good Reads





	The Greater Crime

_“If you had just listened to him!”_

_“If you hadn’t been so judgmental!”_

_“If you’d been a better Master!”_

_“If you hadn’t forced him to keep secrets.”_

_“If you’d shown him, even just a little, that you loved him.”_

_“If you hadn’t been so cold.”_

_“If you hadn’t been so quick to put the Jedi, duty, before him.”_

_“If you’d just asked more questions.”_

_“If you hadn’t…”_

The accusations were hurled at him, fast and steady from all sides, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes and accepted them. Accepted that when the scales were weighed, it was Obi-Wan who had committed the greater crime.

He just wasn’t sure what the crime was—except that, when it came down to it, he had never been enough, had never done enough.

He had no defense against the accusation, and so he stayed silent.

_—_

_Obi-Wan kept moving. It felt as though everything that he was had been carved out of him, leaving him an empty husk, moving forward because there was nothing to do but to move forward._

_His whole world was gone. His men had turned on him, the Republic he had sworn his life to upholding had fallen, his entire family had been slaughtered down to the young, three-month old orphan that had been given to the Order only two days before he'd left for Utapau._

_And his padawan, his dearest friend, his brother... he'd been the one to lead the slaughter._

_So yes, Obi-Wan kept moving, but only because he didn't know how to do anything else. Years and years of fighting and surviving kept him alive now. Instinct taking the place of reasoned action._

_'Defeat the Sith you must.' Yoda had said._

_And what choice did Obi-Wan have? How many other families would his brother destroy the way he'd destroyed Obi-Wan's? How could Obi-Wan leave his brother loose on the galaxy when Obi-Wan saw, first hand, that not even the most innocent of children would be safe from his brother's anger._

_So he'd gone to Padme._

_It was, in retrospect, a good thing that Obi-Wan had been too numb for emotions. That Obi-Wan had been too numb to do anything but keep moving. Otherwise his heart, empty, hurting, and broken, might have been filled with bitterness._

_He had considered Padme a friend. Perhaps not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. He had considered Padme someone who cared, deeply, for the people._

_Just not his people, as it turned out._

_What did Padme care for the young Knight whose reports were always filled out in triplicate and with the sort of detail that made Obi-Wan want to both laugh and cry, because this Knight cared so much and yet Obi-Wan had another 15 reports to read and it was long past midnight, whose body Obi-Wan had found covering two initiates, as though he'd tried to protect those two innocents until his very last breath._

_What did Padme care for the young padawan who had stuttered her way through her first report to the council, looking up at her Master every other sentence searching constantly for the steady approval her Master offered, whose body Obi-Wan had seen riddled with blaster fire._

_What did Padme care for the old Master who had been too old and body too broken to enter the battlefield and had instead spent his time carefully sewing together the dark robes that the Jedi wore out into battle, the old Master who had given Obi-Wan a tongue lashing to end all tongue lashings about the number of robes Obi-Wan went through until Obi-Wan admitted that every time he 'lost' a robe, a robe would 'turn up' in the clones' barracks on the Negotiator, often used as a blanket during nights when the soldiers would nest together. The Master had never said another word about the number of robes Obi-Wan went through, and each robe Obi-Wan got after that was imbued with all the love and protection the old Master could weave into his work. The old Master who would never say another word again, whose body was one of many littering the halls to the creche in a desperate attempt to protect the younglings._

_What did Padme care about the young four-year-old Kel Dor who had solemnly looked up at Obi-Wan when he'd visited the creche last and offered to share a bite of their cookie, because Obi-Wan 'looked sad, and cookies fix everything,' and whose body was now marked by a lightsaber blade through their stomach, piled with the bodies of other younglings who were never going to have the chance to live._

_What did Padme care?_

_Obi-Wan was so broken that by the time he realized that Padme didn't care at all, he was too numb to feel anything more than the grief that already racked his soul._

_But he'd needed to keep moving, and so he'd hidden in her ship, because Anakin had become the very thing they'd sworn to destroy, and had destroyed the very thing they'd sworn to protect._

_Obi-Wan's family was gone, but he could not stand by as Anakin turned that same cruelty against other innocents._

_And then Anakin's own family had grown, and Anakin was not there. It was just Obi-Wan, Padme, and Threepio on a ship headed to Mustafar as Padme went into labor._

_And Anakin needed to be stopped, but there were children coming and their mother in pain and Obi-Wan had redirected the ship on it's path to Mustafar and to the nearest med facility._

_They hadn't made it quite in time, and Obi-Wan had done his best to bring two tiny beings into the world while their mother screamed and cried while in the background Threepio fretted and worried._

_He'd done his best to wrap the small bodies in warm blankets and the warmer light of the Force, to protect them from the cold of space and the colder presence of the Dark Side tearing the galaxy apart._

_They made it to the med facility in time for Padme and her children to get a check over, both her and her children proclaimed healthy and whole._

_By the time it was all said and done, Anakin had left Mustafar and was back on Coruscant, standing just behind the new Emperor that Yoda had failed to kill._

_Obi-Wan was not strong enough to face both Master and Apprentice and did not know where Yoda was, and the med facilities he'd found were not as discreet as he would like, and all that was left for Obi-Wan to do was to run._

_Padme did not want to come with him._

_“Anakin would never.” She declared. “Never hurt me, never hurt our children.”_

_Obi-Wan had already walked among the corpses of his own family, slaughtered by Anakin’s hand. But he did not mention them._

_After all, what did anyone care for the Jedi dead._

_“But the Emperor might.”_

_And Padme, eyes icy and hope still burning strong in her soul, had hesitated._

_“I’ll come with you. But we’re saving Anakin.”_

_Obi-Wan loved Anakin. Loved him with all of his heart and soul. But the image of dead younglings haunted his mind. He wasn’t sure that there was enough of Anakin left to be saved._

_He didn’t say as much, instead he took Leia and Luke in his arms and directed Threepio to assist Padme and led them back to her ship._

_It was time to run._

_—_

Rex sighed quietly as Senator Amidala—Padme now, he reminded himself, just Padme—and Ahsoka spoke. Behind them General Kenobi was standing near a wall, holding Leia carefully and tenderly.

Luke was nestled safely in Ahsoka’s arms.

The six of them had been traveling together for nearly nine months now. Rex and Ahsoka had made it off of Mandalore together, while General Kenobi had been protecting Padme and the children, and eventually by some miracle, or perhaps the Force that Ahsoka and the General believed in, they had found each other. Everyone knew that it was probably safest to split up. Together they were too much of a target. But somehow safest no longer seemed synonymous with best, and after some debate, they had decided that while it wasn’t the safest choice to stick together, it was still the best option.

They had all lost everything else, they needed each other now.

The topic of conversation shifted back to their favorite piece of conversation.

General Skywalker.

“We just need to get him away from his soldiers.” Padme was saying quietly, steel underlying her words as she met Ahsoka’s eyes. “I know, between the two of us, that we can talk sense into him.”

From the corner of Rex’s eye he saw General Kenobi straighten from where he leaned against the ship wall, shifting for the slightest moment, before quietly leaving the room.

Rex wasn’t entirely surprised.

General Kenobi had stopped participating in the conversation that surrounded General Skywalker. Some bitter part of Rex was grateful for that. General Kenobi, more than all of them, had failed General Skywalker.

Had failed _all_ of them.

Still, beyond that bitterness that seemed to coat everything, a part of Rex worried. Because it wasn’t only these conversations that General Kenobi had stopped joining. He’d stopped participating in nearly every other conversation as well.

If he searched his memory, he couldn’t think of a single conversation that the General had joined in _months_. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d heard the General speak so much as a word.

In front of him the conversation continued, vague plans and idle musings.

Padme was certain that all she needed to do was face Anakin. To ask him to come back to her, and that he would. Then they’d join together and face the Emperor and everything would fix itself.

Well, no. Rex knew that the former Senator knew there was more to it than that. They all did. But it was a place to start. Turn the Emperor’s right hand against the Emperor.

Luke’s cries interrupted the conversation, and Ahsoka immediately started rocking him in her arms. When that failed she gave Padme a beseeching look, but Rex stepped forward before the baby could change hands. “Here, I’ll take him to go get some food in him. You two can keep planning.”

Ahsoka and Padme both smiled at him as Rex carefully pulled the small child into his arms.

He’d been half out of his mind with fear the first time he’d held either of the twins. But slowly, with the encouragement of the others—and watching Ahsoka’s own terror at being handed a baby—he’d grown used to the comforting weight of them in his arms.

He only made it partway down the hallway to the ship’s small kitchen before he saw the General coming towards him. Leia was still nestled in one arm, and Rex could see that Obi-Wan had two small bottles of baby mash in his free hand.

General Kenobi handed one of them over to Rex without a word, already turning back to the small bunk areas before Rex could say anything.

Rex frowned a little, because he missed the General’s voice. Missed his wry humor. Missed the way he could make Rex feel alive with a quirk of his lips and a quiet _Captain_. Missed the sound of Rex’s name in his voice, even when it had never been anything more than innocent from the General’s lips. “Thank you,” Rex said. General Kenobi turned his head to give a nod, a sign that he’d heard, but continued away.

“General?” Rex called and was grateful when General Kenobi stopped, fully turning this time, one eyebrow raised in question. “We’ll be needing to stop for supplies soon. You didn’t add anything to the list. Was there anything you needed?”

The General shook his head, something that was probably supposed to be a smile crossing the General’s lips—but Rex knew all of the General’s smiles, had memorized them over the years, and this wasn’t one of them—it seemed more like the General was trying to smile because he thought it was the expected response and less because he thought there was something worth smiling about.

Before Rex could say anything else, the General was gone again.

—

_Obi-Wan wasn’t so selfish to think that he was the only one hurting._

_Ahsoka was in shock. Her Master had Fallen, the Order she’d grown up in—even if she’d left it—was destroyed, her whole world had been destroyed, so soon after she’d once again found her footing. But only one of those things could be fixed, and so only one of those things had her focus._

_Padme was grieving. She had watched as the Republic she’d devoted so much of her life to crumbled into dust around her, was forced to watch as the husband she loved supported the Empire that took it’s place. But Obi-Wan knew that she believed, with all of her heart, that if she could have Anakin at her side again, that together they could tear down the Empire and rebuild the Republic it had destroyed._

_Rex had lost his brothers, and to something far more insidious and terrifying than death. Obi-Wan had thought he’d fall apart when Rex had spoken of control chips and Fives’ warnings. And Rex—Rex who’d removed his own chip, but hadn’t been able to convince enough brothers to follow suit—watched as his brothers who had fought every day of their lives to prove that they deserved to exist, were wiped away to be replaced by empty shells. For Rex, Anakin, at least, seemed easier to retrieve then those lost souls._

_Obi-Wan… understood._

_Understood that each of them believed in Anakin, believed in Anakin with everything in them, because Anakin had never failed them._

_Obi-Wan had believed in Anakin._

_—when he closed his eyes, his dreams were tainted blue. The blue of the security recordings he wished he’d never watched. The blue of Anakin’s saber gutting a six-year-old initiate who was staring up at Anakin with trust in their eyes. The blue of Anakin’s eyes as, murder after murder, they slowly changed into poisonous yellow—_

_Obi-Wan could remember Utapau. Could remember his sense of Cody, always on the edge of Obi-Wan’s attention when they were on a battlefield, sliding away into an ether of nothingness. He hadn’t had time to wonder what it meant, as the Force had screamed, first in warning—and a canon that had knocked him from the canyon wall explained that—and then in grief and pain at the deaths of hundreds of Jedi._

_Obi-Wan still believed in Cody._

_Cody had tried to kill him, but missed. Cody, stalwart, patient, determined, ruthless Cody, had ordered one canon shot and then declared him dead as though Cody hadn’t been the one who had been there every time Obi-Wan had dragged himself out of impossible odds._

_Cody had a chip in his head forcing his ‘betrayal’. Anakin… Obi-Wan didn’t know what had caused Anakin’s choices. All he knew was that Anakin had made those choices._

_No one could change that._

_Except… except sometimes Obi-Wan thought that that was wrong._

_The others certainly thought so. Eyes sharp on him as they spoke of betrayal and blame._

_And it was not Anakin whose betrayal was worst, it was not Anakin who held the blame._

_All of them, except perhaps the tiny bundles of light that were Luke and Leia, knew who to blame._

_If Obi-Wan had been a better Master, a better Jedi—or perhaps a worse Jedi, he was never quite sure—if he’d listened more. If he’d known better._

_It was his fault Anakin had Fallen. His fault he hadn’t seen the Sith hiding at the heart of the Republic. His fault that he hadn’t saved the men._

_And it was, oh it was._

_The grief ached at him. He should have done more. Could have done more._

_And now the galaxy lay in tatters around him._

_—_

Things didn’t go to plan.

That wasn’t new, things never went to plan.

But this… this hadn’t been what any of them had expected to happen. This wasn’t… it wasn’t right.

Padme was pale where she huddled in her bunk, holding both of her children, now over a year old, tight to her chest.

They’d gotten General Skywalker alone, separated from his troops, and then Padme had gone to him with the plea to leave the Empire behind.

General Skywalker had Force-choked her, had tried to kill her.

“There’s still good in him.” Padme whispered, and Rex wasn’t sure if the whisper was because of her damaged throat or because for the first time she wasn’t sure.

Rex didn’t know how to comfort her.

No one had ever imagined that General Skywalker would hurt her.

Not her.

Not Padme.

But General Skywalker had been furious. Screaming about how Padme had betrayed him. How she had stolen his children from him. How she was trying to weaken him, trying to destroy him.

How he had saved her, and she had run from him.

She might have died. Would have, if Ahsoka hadn’t jumped forward and attacked, diverting Anakin’s attention. But Ahsoka had been in shock, had been grieving; they’d all said it might be possible that General Skywalker would try and hurt them. But in the shattered remains of the encounter, it was clear that those had been empty words. None of them had truly expected that it would happen.

General Skywalker _loved_ his wife.

That was something they had counted on. Something that they had all known was an unchanging, unalterable truth.

In the end, General Kenobi had intervened. He hadn’t been with them, had been given a different mission objective—and Rex knew it was because Padme hadn’t wanted him anywhere near General Skywalker—but he’d arrived back in time to protect Ahsoka. To give Ahsoka and Padme time to escape while he held off General Skywalker, with only Rex as back up.

It was impossible to say which of the two Generals would have won if it hadn’t been for the battalion of soldiers—the battalion of Rex’s brothers—that had shown up, forcing General Kenobi to put a stop to the fight and for the two of them to run for it.

They’d barely escaped.

And now Padme was grieving again, Ahsoka was in traumatized shock, Rex didn’t know what to do.

General Kenobi entered the room quietly, wrapped a blanket around Padme, checked on the children, handed Rex and Ahsoka food.

Rex desperately wanted him to stay, wanted him to soothe the grief and pain that seemed to be swallowing the rest of them whole.

Rex had lost his brothers, and he didn’t know how to get them back. He’d thought… he’d hoped… he’d thought he could save his own General.

But now even that seemed impossible.

But he had General Kenobi. Needed General Kenobi.

And then General Kenobi was gone again.

He hadn’t said so much as a word.

Rex was starting to wonder if he ever would.

—

_Things were different, now._

_Everyone had grown… silent. Not the way Obi-Wan had. No, they all spoke, but their words seemed so much emptier, so much bleaker._

_Obi-Wan didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know how to help. Particularly because, when it came down to it, he knew that any help that came from him would be unwanted._

_It was his fault, and his presence, his help, would only make everything worse._

_Padme had looked at him, after it had all gone wrong—for a second time—and there had been a hesitation there, as though she thought he would laud his ‘victory’ in their faces._

_It wasn’t a victory._

_Obi-Wan hadn’t wanted to be right._

_He had hoped, somewhere deep down, that Padme and Ahsoka and Rex were all right._

_They all believed in Anakin with such fierceness, with a fierceness that Obi-Wan himself had once believed in Anakin. And he’d… he’d wanted them to be right._

_He wanted them to save Anakin, to turn him against the Emperor, to make everything right._

_True, he didn’t think he’d be able to so much as stand in the same room with him, had their plan worked and Anakin been brought back._

_He loved Anakin, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to—or even if he could—forgive him. The others were far better people than Obi-Wan could ever be. But Anakin’s ability to be saved, to fix what had gone wrong, to fix what he’d_ done _wrong, hardly depended on Obi-Wan being able to stand in the same room as him._

_Despite what had happened…_

_Padme hadn’t given up hope in Anakin. And Obi-Wan… was proud of her, for her optimism, her hope._

_—he closed his eyes and saw the temple burning, saw the younglings scattered across the ground, saw Anakin kneel before the Sith Lord and offer his eternal loyalty, saw blue eyes turned yellow—_

_Obi-Wan thought Padme was a remarkable woman._

_Obi-Wan was nothing more than a tired, grieving man._

_—_

General Kenobi was gone.

Rex was a little surprised by how surprised he was.

More, he was surprised by how hurt it left him—or maybe he wasn’t, because he’d never lied to himself about how he felt.

General Kenobi had abandoned them.

—had abandoned _Rex—_

That wasn’t how it had been put, of course. No. What had happened was Senator Organa had reached out to them with an important mission that needed someone talented and experienced. Someone who could survive against an Inquisitor or two, possibly even Vader himself.

Except the rest of them hadn’t even known about the request from Senator Organa until after General Kenobi had already packed the few things he’d had, ready to go on what sounded more like a suicide mission than an actual plan.

He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye, as though he didn’t expect that anyone would miss him.

The twins had gotten a gentle kiss to their foreheads, and the rest of them a silent nod, and then General Kenobi had hooked his bag over his shoulder and left their ship to go meet the Senator.

He hadn’t said whether he was coming back.

“I miss him.” Ahsoka admitted, a month after he’d gone, and still no word from him. Not if he was alive, or okay, or if he was ever coming back. “I don’t think I’ve even _spoken_ to him in months, and it’s not exactly a big ship. But I miss him.”

Rex felt much the same, but he wasn’t sure how to say so.

“I hadn’t even realized how much it helped, just to feel him in the Force, to be able to remember that I wasn’t alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Rex nudged her, trying to smile. “You have me and Padme, you have the twins.”

Ahsoka nodded. “I know.”

“He’ll be back,” Rex assured her. He needed the General to come back, needed to know that he was alive and well and not dead and gone.

“Will he?” Ahsoka looked tired. “I’m not so sure. I don’t know if I’d want to come back to us if I were him.”

Rex remembered the accusations that they’d hurled at the General at the beginning, remembered the way they’d all seen him fall into silence and done nothing to help him find his way back.

Rex wasn’t sure he’d want to come back to them either.

—

_Obi-Wan had known it was risky, known it was stupid. Known that he was being a fool and that the slowly growing Rebellion needed to be put first. That he couldn’t and shouldn’t risk the mission._

_Not for anything._

_Not even for this._

_But he’d already sent the information from the mission back to the Rebellion, and the only thing he’d really been risking was his own life._

_And what did his life matter? It didn’t. It didn’t matter._

_So he’d risked it._

_And by some miracle of the Force it had worked._

_He stared down at the man he’d found, the man he’d rescued._

_—hypocrite, some voice said, that you risked it all for him, for them, when you had discouraged the others from doing the same—_

_He didn’t regret it, even if his heart was terrified of what might happen when the man opened his eyes._

_‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ The words couldn’t quite come out, and he realized that somehow, since the Fall of everything Obi-Wan had known, he’d forgotten how to speak._

_Cody was still fighting through the drugs from the surgery they’d put him through, but he smiled up at him._

_“You’re not dead, General.” Cody’s voice was hoarse, but despite that Obi-Wan could still feel Cody’s relief, his joy, as though Obi-Wan being alive was good. “You’re not dead.”_

_Obi-Wan closed his eyes, bowed his head, and shamelessly sobbed into his Commander’s chest._

_—_

Rex was wandering the base by himself—Ahsoka was taking a nap with the twins while Padme was in a meeting—trying to pretend that he wasn’t searching for a certain General that he hadn’t seen in months, when he saw Cody again.

Rex stared at his brother in shock. “Cody?” Except it couldn’t be. Cody was trapped within the Empire and Rex had to be staring at some other brother.

The brother turned, and Rex thought his heart might rip itself apart in the mix of emotions he felt. Because it was Cody. Cody, here in a rebel base. “Rex.” His brother smiled, and Rex thought his heart might break from pure happiness.

Rex stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around his brother. “You’re alive.” A lump lodged itself in his throat. “You’re free.”

Cody’s arms were tight around him and Rex felt _safe_. Felt _loved_. Rex had tried to not think about it, but he’d thought… in the deepest, most aching part of his heart, that he would never see Cody again. “I am. I’m free.”

It took monumental effort to pull back, and even then Rex couldn’t quite let go of his brother’s arm, keeping him close. “How?”

Cody made the _face_. “Well, the reports say that it was part of Senator Organa’s plans.” Cody rolled his eyes. “In reality, the General was a di’kut.”

“General Kenobi?” Rex asked, though he couldn’t think of anyone else Cody could possibly be talking about.

Cody snorted. “Who else? He deviated from the mission plan, knocked me and a bunch of brothers out, somehow got all of our unconscious bodies past a bunch of imperials, and then demanded that Organa give him a way to get rid of the chips.”

“Alone?” Rex asked, because he couldn’t blame General Kenobi for doing it—was so incredibly grateful he had. But at the same time, Rex couldn’t help but wonder what the man had been _thinking_ trying to bring in a whole group of brothers—all of who would have killed him in a heartbeat—by himself.

Cody nodded, exasperated. “Like I said, he was a di’kut. If even the smallest thing had gone wrong we’d have killed him.” Cody looked as though he didn’t know whether to be horrified by what might have happened, or fond of the General who’d done it anyways. “But by some miracle it worked. And I’ve been keeping him from being _too_ much of an idiot since.”

Rex wanted to laugh, but the lump of emotion in his throat seemed to have only grown larger. “I wish I’d been there. I’d have done anything to have been there to help get you out.”

“I know.” Cody said, quiet. “But you were doing good work, keeping Commander Tano, the Senator, and the kids safe.”

It was true, but still. “I wish I’d been here. Working with you again.”

He’d missed Cody so much. Cody had always been Rex’s rock, had given Rex stability in a world where stability was nothing more than a lie.

Cody hesitated, and there was look in his eyes that Rex easily read as his brother trying to decide whether he should be honest.

“What?” Rex asked, because he didn’t want Cody to feel like he couldn’t be honest with Rex, no matter what it was.

“The General suggested that I could join you.” Cody said finally. “Was going to send me and the others out to join up with you and your group, if you’d have had us.”

Rex frowned, and this time he fully stepped back, because if General Kenobi had suggested that, then it had been Cody’s choice to not, and Rex knew, immediately why that was. The guilt he’d been carrying for the past two years twisted until he couldn’t breathe. “Is this because I didn’t convince you to get the chip out? Cody, I’m sorry. I know—”

“No.” Cody interrupted, stepping closer and gripping Rex’s arm tight, tilting forward so that their foreheads could touch. “I don’t blame you, Rex. I should have listened. But you were doing okay, you had the Senator and Commander Tano. You were where you wanted to be. I wasn’t going to get in the way of that.”

“And you—” Because Rex would have wanted Cody there too.

“I couldn’t leave my General.” The answer was so Cody that Rex knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow… somehow it hadn’t hit him that General Kenobi would have sent Cody to join them _and not come himself_. “He’d have gone off and done something suicidal and idiotic the moment I let him out of my sight. Plus,” Cody shrugged, “General Kenobi knows that he’s been making things harder for the rest of you. He’s been trying to give you space, and I figured it was best to respect that. I know myself well enough to know I would have only made things worse.”

“Space.” Rex repeated, and wondered what he was missing. Cody gave him the _look_ , and Rex had to fight not to point out that _he_ wasn’t the one who was making no sense. “What do you mean, the General’s giving me space?”

Because Rex had never _said_ , but he’d always thought that the General knew anyways, that Rex didn’t want space between them, anymore than he wanted space between him and Cody.

He’d always thought that the General had stayed quiet because he hadn’t wanted to hurt Rex.

“Well, not just you.” Cody qualified. “But he knows you all blame him, hells, he blames himself.”

Rex just stared at him, raising an eyebrow in a way that was supposed to indicate that he wanted Cody to stop talking around things and just get to the point.

It was unfortunate that the look had never really worked on Cody.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Except that wasn’t fully true, was it? Rex did, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge that truth.

Cody sighed, and he glanced down the hallway he’d just come down, presumably to where General Kenobi was. Inwardly Rex wondered if General Kenobi was in the meeting with Senator Organa and Padme. Finally Cody met his eyes again, and there was something conflicted in them. “Look, I know why the rest of you feel the way you do. On some level I get it. But I… I wasn’t going to let my General go back to somewhere where everyone was blaming _him_ for Skywalker’s choices.”

Rex looked away. He remembered the time right after he and Ahsoka had found General Kenobi, Padme, and the twins. There had been… well, emotions had been running high, and sides had been drawn.

Or rather, they’d needed someone to blame, and General Kenobi had been convenient, and General Kenobi would never fight in his own defense.

General Kenobi was the one who had given up on General Skywalker, the one who had called him Fallen, the one who had suggested that they needed to prepare themselves for the fact that they might need to kill him.

It had been unfathomable to the rest of them.

It had felt like a betrayal, that General Kenobi would turn against General Skywalker. As though General Skywalker hadn’t done that first.

Padme had started it, probably unintentionally, but she’d been the one to start the vilifying.

And at the time, with emotions what they were, with the devastation so fresh… it had made sense. Because Rex had believed that General Kenobi could do and fix near anything. But he _hadn’t_.

If only General Kenobi had done _more_. If General Kenobi had been there for General Skywalker. If General Kenobi hadn’t been such a cold-hearted Jedi…

If General Kenobi had done better, then General Skywalker wouldn’t have Fallen.

“Oh.” The word fell a little flat, and Rex couldn’t bring himself to look at Cody.

Cody sighed, soft and kind and not as condemning as Rex would have expected when Cody thought General Kenobi needed defending. “He understands why you feel that way. I do too, I guess. If General Skywalker was talking about putting General Kenobi down, well, I probably wouldn’t respond well.”

From the corner of Rex’s eye he saw Cody look away again, back down the hallway to where his General was. “You’d have murdered Skywalker for even thinking it.” Because Cody would. Cody would kill anyone who was a threat to his General and not regret it. And Rex… Rex didn’t want to think about it.

Cody shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do if my General did what…” he didn’t finish the sentence, because apparently Cody couldn’t even conceive of a world where General Kenobi became what General Skywalker had. “I know how the rest of you feel, because I imagine if it had been my General I’d feel the same. But I understand why General Kenobi feels the way _he_ does. The 212th was one of the battalions that helped clear the bodies from the Temple. Seeing the destruction, seeing those kids that the 501st killed, the kids that General Skywalker murdered…” Cody shook his head, and Rex thought he might be sick. There were some parts of what General Skywalker had done that Rex didn’t want to have to face, that he’d avoided facing in the past years. “My General was at the Temple, he saw it. I wouldn’t have any faith in General Skywalker after that either.” Cody sighed. “I _don’t_ have any faith in him.”

Rex swallowed. It was hard, sometimes, to remember that General Kenobi had seen the direct results of what General Skywalker had done. Or maybe it was something that Rex just didn’t _want_ to remember.

The rest of them? They’d heard, of course, what General Skywalker had done. General Kenobi had told them himself, his voice hollow and hurting. But those were just words. It was nearly impossible to imagine that it could be real. That General Skywalker could do that. It was _General Skywalker_. It was so easy to pretend it wasn’t real.

“You think he’s past hope?” Rex asked, and he finally met Cody’s eyes. Desperate for some reassurance, even if he found he wasn’t sure Cody would give it to him. “That there’s no getting him back?”

Cody looked away, lips pursed, but when he looked back his eyes were firm. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything that would ever make me trust him again. And I wouldn’t, personally, choose to waste the resources on bringing him in. But apparently I’m not the one who gets to make that call. And I recognize that there are people higher up, like Senator Amidala, who feel very strongly on saving Skywalker.”

“There’s still good in him,” Rex said quietly, repeating the same phrase that Padme always did.

Cody shrugged. “Maybe. But if there is good in him, he’s not acting on it, so it doesn’t actually do us any good.”

“So you think we should just kill him?” Rex demanded, angry and frustrated, because if this was Cody’s General he wouldn’t be saying this.

But it wasn’t, it was Rex’s General.

“Before he kills more innocents?” Cody asked, his voice suddenly hard. “Yes. I do. Those innocents don’t deserve for us to keep giving Skywalker time to change his mind and start being a good man again. They deserve for us to do whatever it takes to protect them.”

Rex drew back, because… well, Cody wasn’t wrong.

But Cody wasn’t done, and his voice was sharp. “General Skywalker made his choices. How many more chances are we supposed to give him? And are we supposed to give those chances to every bit of murdering scum working for the Empire in case ‘there’s still good in them’ and they’ve got people out there who are hoping _they’ll_ change?”

Rex didn’t know how to answer that.

Without his permission his mind went to Krell.

Krell had been a Jedi once. Had presumably been good once.

And maybe, somewhere deep down there had been some part of Krell that had been good still.

But did that matter?

If someone had told Rex that there was still good in _Krell_ and that Rex should give Krell an opportunity to change, all while Krell kept making choices that got Rex’s brothers killed. That Krell should be given another chance, and another chance, and another chance, while innocent brothers died…

Rex’s brothers didn’t deserve to die while Krell rediscovered his conscience.

So why should innocents have to die while Rex and Padme and Ahsoka tried to figure out how to make General Skywalker come back to them.

Rex was suddenly grateful that it was something of a moot point right now, because they didn’t have the resources to kill General Skywalker—to kill _Vader_ —any more than they had the resources to save him.

Cody sighed, and it was as though he’d read Rex’s mind. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now either way. And if Senator Amidala gets her way, then you’ll find a way to save him eventually. But for now, how about you come with me and get some lunch with the rest of us. Boil will be happy to see you.”

Rex nodded, trying to push away the conversation they just had, and let his brother lead him away.

“I am happy to see you, Rex.” Cody said quietly.

“Me too, Vod. Me too.”

—

_Things had gotten… better. Not good. Not really._

_It was difficult for things to be good with the Empire looming over all of them, with the Force darker and colder than it had ever been before._

_But still, it was better._

_Cody was by his side, and while Obi-Wan had tried to push him away. Tried to send him to Rex, tried to get him his own squad to command, tried to convince him to set up a different base for the Vod’e they had plans to save…_

_Cody had told him that Rex was doing all right without him for now. Had put together his own squad and somehow managed to get Obi-Wan’s name put as his second—then smugly informed Obi-Wan that Bail had signed off on it, metaphorically, since there wasn’t actually official paperwork—and then pulled Obi-Wan along with him as they started scouting for a base for the Vod’e they would save._

_The guilt wasn’t gone. It couldn’t be, what with the weight of everything that was all his fault weighing impossibly upon him._

_But Cody was in equal measures patient and exasperated, and somehow that was what Obi-Wan had needed._

_It was still Obi-Wan’s fault, he could never quite agree when Cody told him it wasn’t. But perhaps it wasn’t all his fault._

_“It was his choice, Obi-Wan. Don’t take that away from him.” Cody said, and Obi-Wan couldn’t trust himself, but he could trust Cody._

_Then Obi-Wan had broken down, words scraping past a throat that didn’t want to be used, as he told Cody about the Temple, about the younglings, about the Jedi dead that no one cared about…_

_The guilt ate at him. How often had Cody felt that way about his own brothers? How often had Cody looked at his dead brothers and wondered if anyone cared?_

_Cody could have thrown it in his face. Obi-Wan had quietly thought that he would._

_But Cody hadn’t. “You knew my brothers’ names, Obi-Wan. You carried their deaths with you, the same way I did. You grieved for them when the rest of the galaxy wouldn’t. Teach me the names of your family, and I’ll carry them, I’ll carry them with you, even if the rest of the galaxy won’t.”_

_And so Obi-Wan had. They hadn’t been alone, Boil and Squat and Chipper and Listen had joined them. Those few brothers that Obi-Wan had managed to save. The litany of names, starting with all of Cody’s brothers and ending with the youngest of the Jedi Younglings, had lasted for what felt like hours._

_And Obi-Wan wasn’t alone, wasn’t alone to carry the grief of the Jedi dead._

_He wondered, quietly, if somewhere out there, Ahsoka and Rex did the same._

_—_

Rex saw General Kenobi pause a few steps away from the table, obviously taking in Rex’s presence there.

The General started turning away, clearly looking for somewhere else to eat his lunch, but beside Rex, Cody wasn’t having it.

“General!”

General Kenobi turned back, giving Cody one of his _looks_. Rex had seen it work on General Skywalker, had seen it work on Ahsoka.

Cody wasn’t even phased.

“Sit down, General. Chipper’s been waiting to tell his story until you got out of your meeting.”

Chipper immediately brightened. “It’s a good one, General.” He was looking at General Kenobi with such eager expectation that Rex wasn’t at all surprised when General Kenobi caved.

Rex tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt that the General seemed to purposefully choose the seat that put him furthest from Rex.

Cody’s assurance that it was because the General was trying to give Rex the space that the General thought Rex wanted didn’t actually do much to make him feel better.

It seemed clearer, now, the truth that Rex should have realized the day the General stopped talking.

The General didn’t trust him. Oh, the General would probably trust Rex with his life, but that had never been all that important to the General. It was everything else the General wouldn’t trust him with.

“All right, Chipper, go ahead, I’m ready for your story.” Rex felt his head jerk up, because the General was _talking_. General Kenobi’s voice was soft, but full of gentle support.

Chipper launched into his story, hands waving energetically as his food lay abandoned on the table, but Rex found he was having a hard time paying attention, eyes on the General.

He looked… better. Better than he’d looked when he’d been with him, Ahsoka, and Padme.

There was still a weight on his shoulders, but there was life in his eyes again.

Part of it was probably just the passing of time, the easing of the grief of everything that had gone wrong.

But how much of it had been getting away from them?

How much had they worsened the grief that the General had been under? How much had they dug their fingers into his wounds and kept him from finding healing?

It was an ugly thought.

He kept quiet until lunch was over, and then found himself scrambling after General Kenobi when the man made to leave.

He felt Cody follow after them both sedately, a small sigh on his lips, but he didn’t say anything to discourage Rex.

“General.”

General Kenobi only hesitated a second—short enough that Rex couldn’t even be positive it had happened—before turning to him. “Captain. How are you doing?”

“Good. I’m doing good. So are the others. We miss you, though. Even the twins do. No one can get Leia to sleep quite as well as you can.” He was rambling, Rex realized, he never rambled. “We thought you’d be coming back when you left. But then you didn’t.”

For a second the silence hung heavily between them, and Rex wasn’t sure if that last bit had been an accusation or not.

“I didn’t,” General Kenobi agreed, and his voice was so carefully neutral. “I thought it might be best for all of us.”

How could it have been the best for all of them when General Kenobi hadn’t said goodbye? When sometimes Ahsoka would hold herself tightly and look out at the distance as though trying to feel for someone that wasn’t there? When Padme sometimes cried because no matter what any of them did they couldn’t get the twins to stop crying? Or when Rex had—

Rex swallowed, because he’d felt betrayed by General Kenobi leaving, but he’d never done anything to let General Kenobi think that he wanted him to stay either.

“Thank you.” He said instead, because he didn’t know how to say anything else without it sounding like an accusation, and he’d accused the General of too many things that weren’t his fault already. “For saving Cody.”

General Kenobi’s eyes widened a little in surprise, and he looked fondly to where Cody stood a few feet behind them. “You never need thank me for that, Captain.”

“Ahsoka… I think she’d like to see you.” Rex said carefully. “Before we go, or you go. Padme too. And… I’d like to see you some more, before we part ways.”

General Kenobi seemed uncertain and it was Cody who stepped forward to answer Rex. “We’ve got a mission we’re heading out for at the end of the week, but we could probably all get dinner together before then, depending on when you all head out again.”

Rex sent Cody a grateful look.

Cody looked mildly amused—but there was a sharp look in his eyes that said he was planning _something_.

Rex turned back to General Kenobi, whose eyes were guarded but somehow still soft, and Rex felt something inside him ease.

The galaxy had shattered around them, and in some ways they’d shattered each other in the aftermath, but he thought he could see in General Kenobi’s eyes the possibility that _this_ could be fixed.

—Rex had lost his brothers and his General. And in the aftermath, he’d almost lost even more. Rex didn’t know if his General could still be saved, though he wanted desperately to believe it could be done. But Cody stood here, proof that at least some of those brothers he’d lost could be saved. And General Kenobi stood here, and Rex… Rex had almost lost him too, in the aftermath of all of their grief. But this, this he fully believed could be saved.—

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cruel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614575) by [TheStageManager](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStageManager/pseuds/TheStageManager)




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